The Elder Scrolls - Isekai Ch. 01

Stephen wheezed as he slumped against the wall, wincing in pain as he unslung his backpack and dug around for that health potion he'd picked up earlier. Popping the cork on the bottle he brought it to his lips and downed the contents. As soon as the bitter liquid was down his throat he felt his ribs push back into place as the bones started knitting together. He took a deep breath and was amazed to not hear himself wheezing as a warm glow filled his chest.

Ok, note to self, Health Potions are amazing and don't get hit in the chest by a fucking warhammer. Holy fuck that hurt... Stephen thought to himself, rubbing his recently broken chest.

Sheathing his sword again, Stephen pried the Iron Warhammer out of the now dead Stormcloak's hands and leaned it against the wall, planning on grabbing it before heading out. He needed something sturdy to break through the couple of shields he knew would be ahead.

Thinking of his menu the world paused for a moment as the four-pointed star appeared in front of his eyes.

Alright, these weapons are doing a lot more damage than in the game, I need to figure out how much health I actually have.

Opening the Skills menu, Stephen focused on the bars at the bottom. The green bar on the right told him how much stamina he had, which was currently full for a max of 110. He knew this would affect not only how long he could run, and how much he could block, but also how much weight he was able to carry. The red bar in the middle showed his health, missing a small chunk at the moment for a total of 100/125.

Ok, I already downed a weak potion of health, which restores 25 hp, which means... God damn, seriously!? That single hit from the warhammer did 50 damage?? I need to be way more careful about taking damage...

The final bar on the left was blue, and it was supposed to denote how much magicka he had. However at the moment it was empty and seemed to be stuck at 0/100.

That's... weird... No wonder my Flames spell didn't work earlier, I seem to be completely out of magicka... Why isn't it regenerating over time? Actually, why isn't my health regenerating either? I don't have any mods that do that? I specifically don't use survival mode for that exact reason. I wonder what those assholes did? Ok, so, no Flames, and no Healing. Gotta make those potions count until at least Riverwood.

Satisfied that he had a better understanding of his HP situation, Stephen closed his menu and the world moved back into focus around him.

Looking around the room the two men started riffling through various barrels and sacks, looking for something useful. Making a beeline for a specific barrel Stephen found the main treasure of the room. Grabbing the potion bottles and lining them up on a table in the corner of the room he took stock of what he'd grabbed. 1 Grand Potion of Health, 2 Potent Potions of Health, 4 Weak Potions of Health, 1 Weak Potion of Magicka, 1 Weak Potion of Stamina & a Quality Potion of Resist Poison.

Figuring he had plenty of health potions he drank one more of the Weak Potions of Health to bring him back to max.

Grabbing a couple loaves of bread, potatoes, onions, apples, a couple bottles of wine, some dried garlic, frost mirriam, and elves ears, Stephen put those on the table as well. He also grabbed a hare and a pheasant that were hanging from the rafters, figuring he could clean and cook them on the road.

He turned his attention to the shelves against the wall and grabbed 2 more Weak Potions of Health, a Weak Potion of Magicka, two small bags of salt, a fork and knife, an iron tankard, a small cast iron pot and an empty waterskin. Dumping the contents of his backpack on the table in the corner he rearranged everything before placing it back into the pack carefully. Looping the straps back over his shoulders he grabbed the Iron Warhammer he'd propped against the wall and gave Hadvar a thumbs up indicating he was ready to head out.

Hadvar nodded, his hand on the handle to the door leading out the other end of the storeroom. "Done then? Good. This way."

The two men made their way down another sloped hallway, further down into the bowels of the building. Hearing the clash of weapons ahead of them the two looked at each other in concern and started running.

"Sounds like the fighting is coming from the torture room! Gods, I wish we didn't need those..." Hadvar said, sprinting ahead of Stephen.

The men ran faster down the hallway, expending their stamina as the sounds of combat got closer. Stephen saw his stamina bar hit half empty and put on one final burst to speed in front of Hadvar. Turning a corner, he saw a room open up in front of him with a fight raging inside it. Three Stormcloak's had attacked the Imperial Torturer and his assistant, and seemed to be winning.

Stephen charged forward and raised his hammer for a Power Attack, bringing it down with a sick crunch on the head of one of the Stormcloaks who's back had been to him. The man crumpled beneath the blow and Stephen noticed his stamina bar empty and flash, before slowly starting to refill. He stepped back with the haft of the warhammer raised, prepared to block as one of the other Stormcloaks spun to face him.

Unfortunately for him, that left his side exposed to the torturer's assistant who sunk his axe into the man's ribcage. Stephen finished him with an uppercut to the chin with the spiked side of his hammer, gore splattering upward as he fell limp and slammed into the floor.

Seeing her two companions go down so suddenly the third Stormcloak, a woman that had been on the cart in front of Stephen's, let out a cry of rage and brought her sword down on the outstretched hand of the Imperial Torturer. As she made contact, however, a blast of lightning burst from his hand, slamming into her chest and dropping her to her knees. The Torturer pulled back his hand with a hiss as he started healing it with his other hand and Hadvar stepped up to finish her off with a blow to the head.

And just like that the fight was over.

"You fellows happened along just in time!" The torturer said. "These children seemed a bit upset at how I've been entertaining their comrades."

Stephen felt his skin crawl as the man spoke, an obvious note of sadism flowing out of him.

"Don't you know what's going on? A dragon is attacking the town!" Hadvar shouted at the man.

"A dragon?" the man scoffed. "Please, don't make up nonsense. The dragons have been dead for a thousand years! Although, come to think of it... I did hear some rather odd noises coming from up above earlier."

"Look, whether you believe me or not, the fact remains that the Keep is no longer safe. You just fought several Stormcloaks. You need to come with us and get out of here!" said Hadvar.

"You have no authority over me, boy!" the Torturer practically hissed. "I still have work to do down here. Begone with you!"

"Didn't you hear me?" Hadvar asked incredulously. "I said the Keep is under attack!"

"Forget the old man, once he makes up his mind, there's no arguing with the fool." The Torturer's assistant replied. "I'll come with you."

"Alright fine. What about the fellow in the cage?"

"Don't bother with him, he's already gone. I lost the key to that cage ages ago. Poor fellow screamed for weeks." The Torturer said with a gleam in his eyes.

As the men argued Stephen walked into the "office" of the torturer and grabbed a few sets of lockpicking tools and a small bag of Septims that were sitting on a low shelf. Probably taken from some thief that had inhabited the dungeon at one point, Stephen shuddered to think what became of them.

He moved back into the main room and walked up to the locked cage. Not wanting to accidentally break one of his few lockpicks, he knelt down to grab at the dead man's feet inside the cage and drag him forward.

"Sure, take all of my things, please." The Torturer said to Stephen with a huff.

"Look man, he doesn't need this spell book or his bag anymore and we do. You just said yourself that he's been sitting in there for weeks and you're clearly not using this stuff. Besides, I just saw you blast that chick with lightning, obviously you already know the spell contained in this book."

"Tsk... fine. Take it, if you must." He replied.

Stephen reached his arm in further and grabbed the book and the bag sitting next to the dead prisoner. Pocketing a small bag of coins he found inside, he tossed the now empty bag to Hadvar. scanned the room for anything else that might be useful.

Scanning the room for anything else that might be useful, he spotted a pair of warm looking Fur Gauntlets and an Iron Shield on a bench by the door. Slipping the gloves on, Stephen swapped his warhammer for the shield, conscious that his carry weight was already getting close to the max.

"Alright, I think I'm as prepared as I can be. Let's keep going." Stephen said, walking towards the opening that led deeper into building.

As he, Hadvar and the torturer's assistant walked past the empty cells designed to hold prisoners awaiting a date with the torturer they heard the man call after them, his voice echoing off the stone walls.

"There's no way out that way, you know! The path dead ends after the stream!"

Stephen shuddered, surprised at how much more malevolent the man's voice was than what he remembered from the game. He was glad he'd never have to see him again.

The men continued forward, past more cells and even a few cages, still full of skeletal inhabitants. Winding their way through the underground prison they eventually came upon an opening in the stone wall, a slight breeze wafting out, beckoning them into the sloped tunnel in front of them.

They could hear the soft patter of paws coming from the tunnel, which took a 90 degree turn after only 20 feet, obstructing their view of what lay beyond. A flicker of light was coming from around that corner catching the groups attention, the men sharing a glance. Loosing their weapons, they got ready to face what came ahead of them.

Walking cautiously around the corner of the tunnel they saw the light was coming from a lamp on the wall that had been lit. They could see another one on the wall of the tunnel ahead of them and another at the next curve in the tunnel. Pressing onward with the promise of escape ahead of them they moved down the winding tunnel.

At the front of the group Hadvar was quick to pick out the motionless carcass of a giant rat-like creature called a Skeever, laying in a puddle of blood at the bend in the tunnel. He held up his hand, motioning for Stephen and the torturer's assistant to stop as he walked forward silently to check it out. Bending down next to it he examined a deep gash that split its skull.

"This is fresh. Looks like someone else came down here recently. Armed and capable by the looks of the Skeever." Hadvar whispered. "How many Stormcloaks attacked you earlier? Just the three?" He asked the assistant.

"No, there were a few more, I don't know how many." He whispered back. "It all happened so quick, one moment the old man was hard at work on a prisoner, the next we were being attacked, by Stormcloaks of all people. I had heard about the group coming in today, and figured they were being escorted down to the cells and had somehow managed to overpower their guards. I was a little too busy fighting for my life to notice how many slipped past us though."

Hadvar nodded and straightened, starting to move down the tunnel again slowly, Stephen and the assistant following as quietly as possible to try to maintain the element of surprise. They crept past several more skeever corpses that had arrows sticking out of them, as well as a bat with a two-foot wingspan that had been cleaved in half from head to tail.

The sound of water grew as they moved, bubbling and bouncing off the stone walls of the tunnel. Soon they could hear people ahead of them and slowed to a stop at a bend in the tunnel to listen.

"Gods damnit Harold, where in Oblivion are we supposed to go? Where's the way out!"

"How am I supposed to know? Just keep looking!"

Hadvar looked at Stephen as they listened, holding up his hands, one pointing towards the sound of the Stormcloaks ahead of them, the other holding two fingers up, a questioning look on his face.

Stephen shook his head and held his own hand up, all five fingers raised, indicating how many enemies he knew to be in the next room.

Hadvar raised an eyebrow in confusion and cocked his head, trying to listen for the extra enemies Stephen was saying there were. He could hear what sounded like another voice towards the back, so that was at least three, but he wasn't sure why Stephen thought there were more than that. Shrugging his shoulders in acceptance, he nodded at the man next him, ready for the next fight.

Their small group burst from the mouth of the tunnel, weapons drawn, right into the backs of two Stormcloaks. The room they entered was large, a stream running through the middle of it, with two stone bridges crossing the bubbling water. Besides the two Stormcloaks in front of them, there were in fact three other enemy soldiers scattered around the room, one in the far left corner and another two with bows standing next to each other under a natural skylight that lit the room with pale filtered sunlight.

Hadvar moved quickly, his sword buried in his target's back, dropping one of the rebels before they even had a chance to turn towards the sound of the charging men. Stephen advanced as well, his shield raised as the second Stormcloak in front of them wheeled, backing up to give himself space as he brought his large Iron Greatsword to bear. The torturer's assistant charged past, rushing towards the archers on the other side of the room.

Stephen slashed at the man in front of him, trying to get past the guard of his larger, slower weapon, but his blow was parried easily away, as the man continued backwards onto one of the stone bridges. Stephen stabbed downward, aiming at the man's legs, which brought his large sword downward to deflect the blow. Bringing his sword down left his upper half exposed to Hadvar's attack, his blade finding purchase in the Stormcloak's shoulder, knocking him off balance and off the bridge into the stream a few feet below. Stephen leapt after him bringing the point of his sword down into the man's stomach, blood spitting out of his mouth as he gasped at the shock of the wound. Pulling his sword free Stephen silenced the man's cries with a stab to the head, a metallic ping sounding through the room as his sword pushed through the man's skull into the rocks of the streambed below.

Alright, two down, three to go. How's that other dude doing? Stephen thought as he looked up, searching for the torturer's assistant. He saw him just as he fell from the second bridge dead, his body looking like a pincushion with multiple arrows sticking out of his chest.

Well... shit...

Hadvar had watched with shock as the torturer's assistant had charged the two archers and then dismay as he had failed to even make it close to them, his foolish charge ending with his own death. His attention was dragged back in front of him though, as the Stormcloak across the bridge from him came charging forward, a war cry on his lips and an axe raised to strike. He brought the axe down hard, pushing Hadvar back, his sword raised in a defensive stance. Unlike the last two, this Stormcloak had found a shield. Hadvar wasn't sure he'd be a match for him without a shield of his own, but Stephen was about to be very busy fending off two archers so he couldn't expect him to come to his aid.

The Stormcloak continued his push forward, shield raised and axe ready as Hadvar ceded ground, walking back across the bridge he had just crossed. As the Stormcloak walked off the bridge Hadvar lunged forward, his sword pinging off the man's shield. His axe cut forward, but Hadvar stepped to the side, slashing at the man's exposed side. Too slow, however, as his sword swung through empty air, the Stormcloak stepping back quickly as he realized what Hadvar was aiming for. Frowning at the man's speed, Hadvar took a deep breath, steadying himself as the duel continued.

Stephen hadn't seen the fight going on behind him, he'd been focused on the archers on the other side of the room. Unlike the torturer's assistant, Stephen had charged the archers with a shield raised, and besides for an arrow that had grazed his shoulder, had come away almost unscathed. He closed the distance to the two archers, slashing at the closest one, his sword chopping through the simple Long Bow the man was using as a makeshift staff. Stephen swiped with his shield, knocking the broken bow from his hands, and kicked him in the gut, sending the man sprawling.

Stephen felt a chill of fear as he heard the twang of a bow to his left, crying out in pain as an arrow sank into his shield arm. Focusing on the second archer Stephen ran forward and let out a cry of rage, hacking his sword repeatedly, loping off a hand as he quickly dropped the man's health bar to zero, eliminating at least one threat. He huffed in pain as the first archer he'd attacked slipped an Iron Dagger into his back, driving the breath from his body.

Stumbling forward Stephen tried to turn and slash at his assailant, but fell over the body of the second archer and toppled to the floor, dropping his shield and sword. The archer was on him in a flash, dagger stabbing down at him. Stephen managed to get his arm up in time to halt the man's attack, grabbing his wrists as the two men entered a deadly contest of strength. Stephen was holding the Stormcloak off for now, but the man was strong and with Stephen's wounded arm and the leverage of being on top he was slowly pushing the dagger down towards Stephen's throat. Yelling in frustration Stephen managed to twist himself out from under the man, kicking him off as he rolled to the side, desperately reaching for the sword he'd dropped moments before. Grabbing hold of the hilt of the blade Stephen brought it around in front of him just as the archer leapt, trying to stab down again at the still prone Stephen. Grunting in pain as his momentum ran him right into the point of Stephen's outstretched sword, the blade piercing his chest, dropping his hp down to a dangerously low 5 points. Stephen snatched the dagger out of the man's limp hand and jammed it into his throat, finishing him off, blood spilling acrost Stephen's face and chest.

Pushing the corpse off of him Stephen sat up on the floor gasping for breath, wincing in pain as the wound on his back bled through his armor. He could see Hadvar still locked in a fight across the room with the last remaining Stormcloak, but Stephen knew he needed to down a health potion before he could rush to his aid. Unslinging the pack from his back he hoped the potions inside were still intact. Heaving a sigh of relief at seeing all of the bottles unbroken, Stephen opened his menu, the world going grey and stopping around him, the pain suddenly subsiding. He opened the Skills menu and checked his health. 63/125

Ugh, I really need to stop letting these bastards get hits in on me. How in the hell did a couple of arrows and an Iron Dagger manage to do 60 fucking points of damage?? Each of those should do like, 3 damage, not 20! Alright, take a moment to breath and plan idiot. I should save the Grand Potion of Health and the Potent Potions of Health for a bit. If I don't need them after the spiders, I should at least be able to get some good gold for them. Alright, the Weak Potions of Health heal for 25 points, and I have plenty of those. I'll tear out the arrow still stuck in me, down a few hp potions, and then go help Hadvar finish off that last Stormcloak. Good plan me.